


As the world as we know it ends

by MemeKonKNB (MemeKonYA)



Series: The one that's a Pacific Rim fusion [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Angst, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4294641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemeKonYA/pseuds/MemeKonKNB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first things that really stuck in the muddled recollection of memories from back then were Kuroko’s voice when he told him <i>it’s over</i>, when he tightened the hold of his smaller hands on Taiga’s arms, and enfolded him in a warm embrace. Taiga hugging him back, listening in to the sounds of the tv’s transmission, catching some glimpses of the camera’s zooming in on a dead, monstrous thing, quiet and bleeding bright blue. </p><p>And then the phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As the world as we know it ends

**Author's Note:**

> I am a little sorry.  
> Also, I am kinda rearranging the PacRim timeline, oops.

After the first strike, there was chaos. It looked like the world was ending, before everyone’s eyes, on their TV screens, contained inside there like a sci-fi movie come to life.

Kuroko was at his apartment, eyes wide as he watched the breaking news, a gigantic monster -a _kaiju_ , as the serious, official looking people on his screen were calling the damned godzilla, a trespasser, as they call those ones now- rampaging San Francisco, making Taiga’s blood run cold, and his fists clench the back of the sofa so tightly the fabric creaked ominously under his fingers.

The beast teared the Golden Gate Bridge apart, destroyed it like it was made of popsicle sticks, nothing but a child’s toy, and Taiga thought of Alex, thought of his dad.

He only noticed he’d been shaking when Kuroko was already standing next to him, one of his pale, thin hands resting on top of one of his fists, and the other on his back, steady and warm through his clothes, comforting in its presence. 

There were loud noises from the live transmission: the sounds of people screaming, loud metallic clangs, the jarring noises of entire lives being lost, and of an entire city being torn apart.

Taiga was on the floor before he could even attempt to hold on. He was on his knees, forehead pressed to the sofa, breathing ragged, the air painful as it came and went through his nostrils and mouth, eyes clenched shut, and Kuroko was next to him, forehead pressed to his arm. 

He didn’t talk, and Taiga didn’t blame him.

It was hours before the news feed eventually died out and the station running it moved onto something else (but not unrelated; Taiga heard several voices talking about kaijus and announcing _there’s little information available yet_ , and _i’m sorry but that’s classified_ ), and the two of them were still kneeling behind a piece of furniture. Taiga was still shaking, but he’d at least started breathing evenly again.

Something hard pressed against one of his hands, and when Taiga took it from Kuroko, he could tell by touch that it was his phone.

“Kagami-kun,” was what Kuroko told him, softly. And Taiga understood what it meant, and he wanted to yell at Kuroko, because he was not ready. But he also knew that that was the only thing he could do, and that he wouldn’t be able to do anything else until he did it.

He hit speed dial number two.

Alex picked up on the second ring. She sounded harried but fine. Taiga cried upon hearing her voice and she was about as soft as she knew how to be, but still rushed him to hang up, apologizing, because there were other people she needed to check on. She said _love you, kid, okay? Stay safe_ and Taiga tried to be the brat she kinda raised on street courts and reply with something cheeky, but all that came out was _me too, take care._

His dad didn’t pick up on the first ring. Or the fourth.

He didn’t pick up at all. 

Kuroko stayed the night. They didn’t arrange for it, barely even said anything to each other after Taiga was done desperately yelling into his dad’s voicemail ( _pick up the fucking phone, you old man, come on, **come on**_ ) and quietly bawling into Kuroko’s slender shoulder.

Under different circumstances, Taiga would have made some kind of fuss about sharing a bed with Kuroko, would have insisted to take the futon, or kick him into it if Kuroko had pissed him off sufficiently during the day. Right then, with Kuroko’s smaller frame against him, all Taiga could manage was to feel some vague sort of gratitude in the midst of the screaming that was going on inside his head.

He slept with a hand loosely tangled on Kuroko’s hair, arm bent at an awkward angle, but mind gratefully quiet and dreams thankfully empty for it, for the reminder of someone, of Kuroko, there with him. 

The following week was a blur of activity, a blur of people coming and going, a blur of channel surfing through news stations as the attack went on, unrelenting; a blur of calling his dad’s number and his dad’s company’s number, and those of the few friends of his that he knew in the States.

The first things that stuck up in the muddled recollection of memories from back then were Kuroko’s voice when he told him _it’s over_ , when he tightened the hold of his smaller hands on Taiga’s arms, and enfolded him in a warm embrace. Taiga hugging him back, listening in to the sounds of the tv’s transmission, catching some glimpses of the camera’s zooming in on a dead, monstrous thing, quiet and bleeding bright blue. 

And then the phone call. 

It was brief. A deep, grief stricken voice telling him that Kagami-san had been on the bridge when it collapsed, that they were all sorry, that the car had been found, a mangled wreck, but-- but that was all. Taiga had nodded dumbly, and when Kuroko squeezed his hands, gave him strength and courage, he’d forced out a trembling _okay_. The voice had told him, then, that he didn’t have to worry about money, that Kagami-san had been very careful about things. Taiga had wanted to scream then, to take the phone in both hands and yell at this person that the last thing he cared about at that moment was money, with his father _dead_ and not even the possibility of a proper burial, a proper goodbye--

He forced himself to take deep breaths, he let his body sag against Kuroko’s, let himself steal some warmth from him, some of his fortitude, before putting together some polite words for this person who’d at least called him, at least _told_ him so he could stop waiting for the phone to ring and for his dad’s voice to be on the other end, cursing him out for calling him an old man.

That stuck with him, those things made him come back from the weird cloud he’d been walking on all week. That had made him look around him, at the state his apartment was in, at how his kitchen had been mostly untouched for the past week. It had made him notice that Kuroko had barely left his side.

“You should go home, your dog probably misses you” he’d told him then, without quite meeting his gaze; knowing that it was the proper thing, but not quite the thing he wanted.

“You are truly dumb sometimes, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko had replied, a fist meeting one of his pecs softly, halfway between a reprimand and a comforting touch. 

Taiga had let go of his phone then, let it clatter to the floor, and held onto that fist as he crumbled, body slumping forward, head over Kuroko’s, body wracked with sobs.

“He’s gone,” he said.

Kuroko’s other hand clung to the back of Taiga’s shirt.

He didn’t say he was sorry, didn’t tell him he was there for him, didn’t offer any platitudes at all. Just held on tightly, and let himself be held tightly in return.

Taiga was grateful for it. 

All around them the world moved on, people mourned their own in San Francisco and all over the world, just like him; people were probably wondering what the hell was even going on, what the hell would become of Earth and humanity; somewhere people were surely yelling over this, making the big decisions, designing the new big weapons. 

But all Taiga could be aware of right then, mind a jumbled mess, ears full of white noise, heart heavy and fucking broken, was Kuroko’s hand clinging to his back, the shape of his body against him, the rhythm of his breathing as he _stayed with him_ , as he made Taiga _not alone_ , at that very moment where he felt loneliness could maybe have broken him.

Kuroko was here, even if his dad wasn’t anymore, and maybe, just _maybe_ , he could still make it through the end of the world, with him.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Come hang out with me on tumblr!](http://memekon.tumblr.com)  
>  (I need KagaKuro buddies!)


End file.
